


White Mist

by tiddlypom



Category: Original Work
Genre: Andrew Marvell, F/M, Religion, To His Coy Mistress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiddlypom/pseuds/tiddlypom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a girl with a heart split in two</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Mist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliceinme-land](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aliceinme-land).



> Something I wrote for an English GCSE a while ago, which I ended up liking quite a lot ^^
> 
> Inspired by: http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/coy.htm

The mud began to slide beneath my feet and I found myself at the bottom of the slope before Michael could stop me from falling. It was exhilarating as I fell, but I was grateful when he offered me a hand up.  
“Right,” he called, once everyone was in the clearing in the woods, “you know the drill. Find your partner and your numbered spot on the map. Back here in an hour. If you need anything, you know where I am.”  
There was a general mumbling of assent as people got into their usual pairs and I was making my way over to Michael when I felt tap on my left shoulder.  
“Helena?”  
I turned around to see Vincent and his questioning green eyes.  
“Vincent; I didn’t know you were into nature conservation?”  
“Neither did I, partner, but here we are. How does spot six sound?”  
That’s the pond near the birch trees, my favourite spot.  
“Sounds good,” I said, eyeing him suspiciously. I brusquely took the map from his hands and told myself to be nice to him.  
Nothing was said as we followed a winding pathway away from the clearing towards the pond. You could’ve cut the atmosphere with a knife. No scratch that, a spoon. Vincent looked like he was bursting to say something, but he remained silent until we’d reached the spot and set up for the next few hours.  
We couldn’t have been sat down for more than half a minute before he coughed, paused and, his words tumbling over one another in his eagerness, said; “so have you considered what I said last night?”  
I sighed, “my answer is still no, V.”  
“But have you really thought about it?”  
“We’re not having this conversation again, you know how I feel.”  
He looked exasperated, “that’s the thing, I know how you feel, and that’s why I don’t understand your perversity,” I could feel another of his speeches coming on; time to interrupt.  
“I just...” I paused, I hadn’t thought through what I was going to say, “look, I know where it would lead, if we were… together,” I frowned at the cliché, “and it’s just not somewhere I’m prepared to go yet.”  
“But when then? A year? Two years? Five? We don’t have forever, you know. I just hate to see you letting time slip through your fingers. Our time on this Earth is so short; surely you should seize every opportunity you can for happiness?”  
“I am happy!”  
“Oh please, give me a little credit would you. You’re blatantly-”  
“Don’t you pretend to know me! You don’t know anything about me, you know nothi-”  
“You look sad when you think no one is looking,” he asserted confidently.  
That hit far to close to the mark and my face gave it away. I turned away, trying to keep it together.  
He looked as if he regretted saying anything but murmured, “I just don’t like to see you unhappy, and I thought perhaps I could help-”  
“Maybe happiness isn’t the point V.”  
That confused him, “you’d rather be unhappy?”  
I whirled back around, “that’s not what I said, of course I’d rather be happy, but if it comes between being happy and doing what’s right then I’ll pick righteousness any day.”  
“What is it that’s not right here? I like you, you like me, simple as.”  
“But it’s not that simple though, is it?”  
“How so?”  
My hand subconsciously went to fiddle with my necklace; my mother’s crucifix. He noticed,  
“Why would God want you to be unhappy?”  
I sighed; I knew anything I said now he would just disagree with. Having a discussion like this is like playing a game of chess with the players interpreting the rules irreconcilably differently. No one can win.  
I began slowly, “the Lord works in-”  
“If you say mysterious ways, so help me Helena, I’ll-”  
I interrupted forcedly calmly, “whatever His plan may be, it is right,” I closed my eyes in concentration, “I can only hope it’ll become clear in the future.”  
He hesitated before saying, “but surely right and wrong are just relative?”  
That was the final straw; I didn’t have to deal with this. I turned and ran deeper into the forest, he was probably faster than me, but I knew the forest better. I ran and I ran until I reached the river. I couldn’t hear his pursuit, I doubted he’d even followed me, so I pulled off my boots and plunged my feet into the river. The water was like ice and colder, it shouldn’t have felt good but it did. Only then did I let my vision blur and the tears scald. I wept silently but intensely, trying not to think about anything. Thinking was so hard.  
I remember a mist slowly descending around me. Following that point, time became meaningless and I don’t know when it was that I heard V’s footsteps on the pine needles. I didn’t look round.  
“I’m sorry,” I heard him utter. I didn’t, couldn’t reply.  
He came and sat next to me on the river bank and I put my head on his shoulder and another bout of silent tears made their appearance.  
“I don’t know what to say,” I finally managed.  
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said but I knew he’d rather I did.  
“I’m just so confused. And so tired of being confused.”  
A pair of falcons circled above our heads, and I envied them in every way imaginable.  
Vincent nudged my face off his shoulder and looked me in the eyes, his face closer to mine than ever. He gently wiped a tear from my face and I flinched slightly but didn’t protest.  
“I can’t think what I should do,” I breathed.  
“Don’t think,” he whispered and he leaned in to kiss me and I kissed back. It was warm and uncertain, and his mouth tasted faintly of oranges, and it felt overwhelmingly right…  
And then, without warning, all the stars fell from heaven, as a fig tree casts its untimely fruit when shaken by a great wind. I pulled away, my mind caught up with my feelings, and Horror gripped me.  
“Helena?” Vincent questioned.  
“I have to go,” I choked, my flight instinct kicking in again.  
“No, Helena, wait,” he held my arm, “it’s okay.”  
I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing and the forest shattered around me like insubstantial mirrors. I wanted to scream and never make a sound, I wanted to hit something and never lift a finger, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me right there and then. What had I done?  
And then I did the only thing I could think to do. Our eyes met and I kissed him again, passionately this time, almost violently. I felt his bewilderment but he caught on quickly enough. A tempest raged inside me and I didn’t fight it. I didn’t think about what my friends’ opinions would be, or my parents’, or Michael’s or even my own. In that moment, I simply didn’t care anymore. I just let the Sun chase me.


End file.
